These Twists and Turns of Fate
by shellehyn
Summary: Various moments and thoughts of our dear doctor and detective, ranging from serious to silly to sad.
1. Really

**Warning, my writing is very new and unrefined. I am new to this still so just bear with me if anything I write is severly uninteresting or poorly done. I enjoy writing, I'm just not very good at it haha. but I love Sherlock Holmes and I felt like I wanted to share some writings I've done for it :) So hear ya go.**

* * *

Really, this was a terrible idea.

Splitting the rent, paying less,

Yes, that all sounds fine and well.

It's when you have to endure this–this _company_

That you find yourself wishing you had never agreed to this arrangement.

It is one thing that he arrives at your lodgings at ungodly hours,

It's another thing that he plays violin at unreasonable times,

But, really, you can tolerate these things.

What you cannot tolerate, however,

Is the rude and inappropriate way he regards those around him.

To say he is a genius would be an understatement

Yet he has either no care for others or is completely oblivious to them

Because he has, by what you've witnessed, never said a kind thing to anyone in his company.

Ever.

Whenever there are visitors for him you are able to catch just a glimpse of his behavior before returning to your room

And you have discovered that his attitude is far beyond simple rudeness.

It has moved to something else entirely.

He appears to have complete apathy towards others' feelings

And, aware of it or not, he gets under your skin

And you have to stop yourself from scolding his behavior.

He is insufferable.

And when one comment goes too far you let him know as much.

He's seen you in true irritation.

Even if you apologize later for your actions,

You've let your feelings be known just the same.

And yet…

Well, he _is _interesting.

But still, watching him from the corner of your eye you do have to wonder.

Just why are you still here?

The man rarely acknowledges you,

Never tells you anything about himself

(though he knows a great deal about you without even asking)

And he often treats you as if you are something like an inconvenience.

You often wonder if you're really that desperate

To house with a man who seems so devoid of human emotion.

So you are naturally surprised when he invites you to go out with him this evening.

In fact you are quite shocked.

Yet you don't even hesitate to take him up on his offer.

Between the two of you

Something has changed.

You're not quite sure what,

But the way he carefully thinks out his sentences

And the way he is mindful of your opinion the entire evening

Makes you wonder.

With all others he is careless and unthinking

And yet towards you he is so…

Perhaps this man is not as discourteous as he makes himself out to be.

And maybe…

Well maybe he could use a decent friend.

When you both are strolling back to Baker Street

You lightly link your arm with his.

It is surprising that he does not pull away.

Yes, he is still insufferable in his own way.

But…

He looks at you and laughs companionably

Lightly tightening his arm with yours.

And perhaps, you think,

Perhaps this wasn't such a terrible idea after all.

**….well not completely so anyway.**


	2. Funeral

**Because Sad!Watson is saaaaad D: I can't imagine how painful it would be for this man. Losing two important people in your life with barely any time between them must have been hard for him**

* * *

There was no funeral.

No grave,

Nothing.

When the great Sherlock Holmes departed from this world

He left nothing behind.

Save one thing,

His Boswell.

He left...

Dr. John Watson sobs,

Wails,

Surrounded by his memories,

Thoughts of his friend.

And when the doctor collects himself,

Calms himself enough to move,

He leaves.

Leaves all the memories,

The rooms,

The possessions.

He leaves,

Goes to his wife,

Her arms are warm

And she is loving.

And she is there.

And through this sadness,

The man lives,

Is able to go on.

Because of his wife.

But slowly, the illness takes her

And he sobs,

Wails,

And is surrounded by his memories,

Thoughts of his wife.

She died.

There is a funeral

And the doctor stares at her grave with a heavy heart.

He is alone,

Utterly alone.

His friend, his wife…

So many things died that day.

There was a funeral

**And the doctor wishes with all his being that it could have been his own.**


	3. Three Years

**Continuation of sorts to Funeral. I have no idea why Sad!Watson appeals to me so. It just does haha. When I saw 'The Empty House' Granada episode I was very disappointed that there wasn't any sobbing or hugs :( They're total BFFs but Watson just acted like Holmes went on vacation or something. SO UNCOOL.**

* * *

Three years.

It had been three lonely, awful years.

Holmes….Mary….three years.

And now, standing and smiling before you is _him_.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

The greatest and only private consulting detective in London.

Alive.

Standing in your house.

You faint.

When you awake he's above you,

Gently touching your face,

Brow furrowed with worry.

He's real, he's here, he's–

Your arms grab him,

Forcefully bring him to you.

You hug and hold him as close as you can,

Crushing the both of you.

You cling and grip trying–

Trying so hard–

To keep this man as close as you can.

Never let go.

He holds you back,

Gently but securely

And you're sobbing and gasping,

Blubbering.

And oh God he's really alive,

He's really here,

He's–he's–

Your crying is loud and broken,

Whimpers and screams,

And you cling and grip more and more.

You were so alone.

So very alone.

He trembles slightly in your arms

Now gripping you back harder.

He's warm.

You don't care how he survived,

Not right now.

You just want to keep him here

Never let him go

Be sure he's real

Be sure he won't disappear again.

He's alive and he's warm

And right now

Right now

**That's all you need.**


	4. Evidence

**Sort of...AU I guess? I don't know where this idea came from I just thought it was interesting. If ever Watson was a crimminal, he would still be a gentlemen through and through.**

* * *

The handcuffs dangle from the Inspector's fingers.

They swing and whirl

And you feel your mind is doing the same.

The doctor is across from you,

A faint, solemn smile on his lips.

You're–

The Inspector is gaping,

Staring towards your friend.

This isn't–this isn't–

"_It was a pleasure to be in your company, dear Sherlock." _

You hear the doctor's kind voice,

And it's….

The Inspector tentatively goes to your friend,

Tentatively puts the cuffs on the doctor's wrists,

Yet they close with a harsh clarity

And your ears ring from the sound.

Your head is pounding

And you're so….

You can only stare at the doctor,

Your friend.

Only stare and…..

He smiles at you once more

And then he is lead away,

Gone with the Inspector,

Away from your home.

And you are alone.

Completely alone.

You are the greatest detective,

A genius,

And yet…

Your only friend in the world was Dr. John Watson.

John Watson, a clever and caring doctor,

A war veteran,

A good human being….

And London's most wanted criminal.

And he lived with you,

For years and years,

And you, the greatest detective

Had no idea.

You look around, look at all the things in his room

And you never….

You never suspected a thing.

It's almost ironic.

Really, you should've….

"_Farewell…_

_My dear Boswell."_

**You pretend that the words don't sting in your throat.**


End file.
